This is Gallifrey

The other day, my roommate tried to start a Time War.

No, not this kind of Time War:

This kind of Time War:

"I am the busiest person in this house."

Cue my rage machine!

I've always hated comparisons of busyness. In the busyness battle, there never is an actual winner — just lots and lots of ticked off people and self-pitying bemoaning.

I used to be the worst at Time War-ing. I'm not better now, but I'm trying.

As a junior in high school, I remember coming to drill team practice at 6 a.m. and hearing one of the senior captains say, "I'm sorry I couldn't get thus-and-so done. I was just SO busy. I'm SO busy all the time!"

Then, a few sentences later, she said, "I watched three hours of Fresh Prince of Bel Air yesterday."

And I went, "WAIT A SECOND! YOU'RE NOT BUSY!"

Then my judging kicked in.

I used to get so annoyed by people who complained about being busy, because I was totally convinced that nobody (NOBODY!) was as busy as I was.

"I was busy last night."

"Oh yeah?! Well, are you taking ballet lessons and doing drill team and taking ballroom lessons and fulfilling church callings and running the school newspaper and writing a weekly newspaper column and blah, blah, blah…"

I had a note on my door (stolen from my friend Angeline) that had a picture of a girl with her head on her desk. It said, "Think you're stressed? Call me. You can have some of mine."

Remembering that picture totally makes me blush now. My parents — running a business, raising six kids, and working multiple jobs — must've rightly thought I was an idiot.

At some point in high school, though, I realized something:

It's not that any of us are NOT busy — it's that our definitions of the word vary.

One of my friend's older brothers taught me this, without even knowing it. He would always (ALWAYS!) talk about how busy he was. He wasn't whining (which would've ticked me off); he was just saying, "I am busy." To me, though, he didn't look busy. It was then that I realized we're all working under different definitions of the same word.

We are all born with and develop busyness or stress thresholds, and what seems busy to one of us definitely might not seem busy to someone else.

I don't reach my definition of "busy" very often. Right now I'm working 40 hours a week and taking 9 credits in grad school. That's not busy.

My last semester of college in 2010, I was working 30 hours a week for the school, 10-20 hours of week doing freelance design, taking 18 credits, trying to finish the capstone classes for 3 different majors, and preparing to speak at graduation. That was busy.

I was busy last week. One midterm, six+ school assignments, 40+ hours of work, visits with my darling Kenna and my delightful Hobie, a date, trying to finish two sculptures in time for an art show, and planning a class for a Cub Scout leader pow-wow.

Got 'em both done, by the way. Bam.

I was busy in mid-December, when I was finishing 15 credits worth of classes for my first semester of grad school, working 40-60 hours a week, and trying to get presents ready for Christmas.

But guess what?

Other people were, are, and always will be busier.

I whined about being busy to a med student in my ward and he shut me down with "I work 80 hours a week." (Saving lives, I might add. That trumps any of my busyness.)

I whined to my Mom about being busy and she (could've but didn't, bless her) said, "Yes, well, I'm working 40 hours a week, being a mom, and planning the ENTIRE Cub Scout pow-wow.

I whine about working more than 40 hours a week to my boss, and then remember that he gets here about the same time I do, leaves 2-3 hours later, and is on-call all the time.

Maybe my roommate is the busiest person in the house. Maybe she's not.

I think she's not busy because she goes to get her hair done, goes out to eat, goes clubbing, and goes to the gym.

She probably thinks I'm not busy because I play with clay and I'm making a bunch of puppets for the Festival of Trees in November.

We both work and we both go to school.

Are we both busy?

Probably.

It's subjective.

Whenever someone tries to start a Time War (or whenever I mentally try to start one myself) I have to tell myself to (A) calm down, and (B) step back. I don't always succeed, but I do try.

Once you start a Time War, there's probably no stopping it.

And even if (miraculously) it does stop, is there ever really a Time War winner?

I'm thinking no.

P.S. If you don't know where the title comes from, you should probably listen to this. You're welcome: